


A Space to Fit Inside of

by kidcarma



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Face-Sitting, Genderbending, Gratuitous Smut, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru are Separate People, Kamukura Izuru can have a Little feelings.. as a treat, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Indulgent, Spanking, Threesome - F/F/F, Vaginal Fingering, im sorry theres no plot :pensive:, lbr ur not here for the plot ur just horny, theyre lesbians, this is just horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24934417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kidcarma/pseuds/kidcarma
Summary: Kamukura and Komaeda ask Hinata to join them.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Kamukura Izuru, Hinata Hajime/Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 9
Kudos: 179





	A Space to Fit Inside of

**Author's Note:**

> i believe Someone said something about lesbians??? hahaha. delivered. ask and ye shall receive... 6.4k words of pure porn apparently because i like to go overboard. anyway this is literally just horny but i tried to give it some decent characterization too

The soft knock against the doorframe tears their kiss apart. 

Only momentarily, of course, because Komaeda is greedy and the sound only jolts her into something more, fingers tangled into Kamukura’s hair and tugging her close as Kamukura lifts her head to look toward the source of the noise. Her eyes settle on the doorway, cracked open just enough to let a certain someone get a glimpse- and because Komaeda is greedy, she lets out a whine when the attention is not on her, attaching her lips to the underside of Kamukura’s jaw and sucking at the skin there.

“Easy,” is the order she gets, a simple one, and she releases her mouth from Kamukura, letting the word push her back into the pile of pillows she’s propped herself up in, coaxing her jitters and restlessness to settle as Kamukura pulls away.

The knock is only a pretense. Something they’d all agreed upon beforehand, in case Hinata got cold feet, in case Hinata felt too imposing just stepping into the room when Komaeda was pinned to the mattress just from Kamukura’s gaze and lips alone, both half undressed, and really, they seemed to be doing just fine by themselves so why would they have invited-

“Hinata,” Kamukura calls to her, still staring at the ajar bedroom door. Tilts her head, tone easy, inviting as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed, socked feet planted into the carpet. The carpet that Hinata crosses slowly, after swallowing her nerves down, shuts the door behind herself. A mess of what ifs and worries as she stares determinedly anywhere else besides Komaeda sprawled out on the blankets waiting with baited breath, and in the same step refusing to return Kamukura’s stare.

They invited her here. _Wanted her_ even, if the way Komaeda’s eyes had lit up eagerly when they’d asked was any indication, if the way Kamukura’s lips are maybe, just maybe turning up into a satisfied smile with every step closer she takes. Hinata knows she’s got no reason to be nervous. Well.   
Maybe. 

She’s dreadfully boring compared to these two. In every aspect conceivable. But she trusts them not to have lied in their motivations. That she’s managed to cause pining in both parties. Mutual pining. 

Because when Komaeda had grinned, Hinata would cast her eyes down, heart fluttering and hoping Kamukura wouldn’t notice the obvious feelings of affection plastered across her face. Or that the thought of slipping her hand into Kamukura’s, the way Komaeda does so easily when they walk side by side, swinging idly, that maybe the thought of doing that was nice, too. 

She’s more transparent than she had realized.

“Are you still feeling alright about this?” Kamukura asks lightly when Hinata finally has nowhere else to go, stopped in her path where she stands between Kamukura’s parted knees. Still looking down, but Kamukura can command the room with just a simple question, so Hinata finally lifts her gaze. Takes a deep breath. 

“Yeah,” the admission comes easy. It’s not a lie at all.

“Good,” Kamukura inclines her head upward, making the effort to sit up a little more as Komaeda shifts across the mattress, wrapping her arms around Kamukura’s middle, clinging from behind. The outside of Hinata’s legs are brushing against the soft skin of Kamukura’s inner thigh because she is resolutely, Hinata had already known but is realizing again, not wearing any pants. She raises her hands, hovering. “May I?”

“Mhm.”

Kamukura’s hands settle, unobtrusively but confidently, on the swell of Hinata’s hips, the pads of her thumbs brushing up under the hem of her t-shirt and against Hinata’s stomach.

Hinata is, suddenly, very grateful and very resentful of the summer heat all at once. Because of it, they’ve got the lights dimmed low, the fan spinning easy, which she hopes will maybe conceal her flush, even if just a little. But it also means she wouldn’t bear it to walk around in anymore than the least amount of clothes possible in order to keep cool. This leaves her feeling _very_ exposed in her thin t-shirt and shorts, even if it’s just limbs- just arms and legs, and she’s definitely not showing any more skin than the other two are right now. 

A gentle tugging pulls Hinata out of her thoughts, Kamukura notices the way her eyes go from distant to _here_ again, as she coaxes Hinata into straddling her lap. She does. The weight, the legs on either side of her, Hinata’s shins resting on the comforter- it’s nice.

“You’re warm,” Kamukura comments casually, tipping her head to the side as Hinata hesitates with her arms halfway raised. Rests her clammy hands on Kamukura’s shoulders for half a beat and then decides _to hell with it_ , wrapping her arms to link her fingers behind Kamukura’s neck.

“Nice observation,” she rolls her eyes. Her fingertips brush against the top of Komaeda’s head, who has her cheek pressed against the ridges of Kamukura’s spine. Komaeda, who is being decidedly quiet and Hinata wonders distantly if that’s because of an order. “I wonder why.”

“It was not meant to be antagonistic,” Kamukura tells her, hands finding home again on Hinata’s waist. “We could turn the fan up higher if you’d like. I just want to ensure that you’re comfortable.”

“No, I know. I…” Hinata concedes. “I am.”

Her touch goes from feather light, ghosting across the thin fabric of Hinata’s shirt, to thumbs kneading in small encouraging circles, then back again.  
“And you’ll let us know if you become uncomfortable at any point?” 

“Yeah.”

Kamukura’s affirmative hum is low, barely audible, but Hinata is able to hear it because she’s leaning in, one encouraging hand on her cheek, guiding her into a kiss. It sends a thrill down her spine.   
Lips against her own, Kamukura is so soft yet unyielding, as their mouths move slick against each other, Hinata begins to relax. Lets her eyes slide shut. Lets herself melt into the touch. Hands slipping under her shirt, up the plane of her back, Kamukura’s tongue prodding at the pout of her lips. 

It’s. It’s _nice_. 

Under her hands, Kamukura can feel the shiver that rips through Hinata as she swallows the throaty sound of surprise, bottom lip taken between her teeth and she nips at the tender skin. A game of push and shove except Hinata is more than content to let Kamukura push, gravitating closer- if that is even possible. Slow and steady and heated and then something more, something hot, something feverish and urgent as Kamukura’s fingers migrate downward, gripping into the flesh of Hinata’s thighs.

It’s beginning to feel like a burning need. Burning hot and glowing and then Hinata realizes the burning feeling is being attributed to, of all things, Komaeda. Komaeda who is watching with cloudy, half lidded eyes from where she’s still clinging behind Kamukura, digits twisted into the fabric of Kamukura’s shirt, rubbing her thighs together as if that would give her any semblance of relief.   
Another small sound escapes Hinata when Kamukura’s grip on her thighs tugs downward, her hips rising up into Hinata’s own. Repeats the gesture a few times, but has to cut it short. Because she’s noticed that one of Komaeda’s hands has relinquished its grasp.

“Hey,” Kamukura says as she turns her head to look back over her shoulder and Hinata shivers again even if she knows the scolding tone isn’t for her.   
Komaeda snatches her hand up as though she hasn’t been caught in the act, hadn’t just had it pressed between her legs, slipped under the fabric of her underwear, _touching_ herself. “You know better than to misbehave. You wouldn’t want to embarrass me in front of our guest, now would you?”

“No- sorry!” The response is instant. “I’m sorry.”

Gentle, distracting touches of fingers tracing up and down her thighs, Hinata has to do a double take, get her bearings when Kamukura speaks next.  
“Since you’re so eager, I’m sure you wouldn’t object to having any help getting the rest of your clothes off. Hinata, would you mind?”

“What- oh, me?”

“If it pleases you.”

Hinata peers over Kamukura’s shoulder at Komaeda, who has taken to scooting back on the bed, sitting on her own hands to prevent them from wandering, from any more disobedience. 

Even if Komaeda’s only got a shirt and panties on, and there isn’t much left to undress, the idea is suddenly very appealing to Hinata. 

“Uh- yeah. Sure,” Hinata says oh-so eloquently as Kamukura shifts to allow her to crawl off her lap, on slightly unsteady limbs, over to Komaeda. “Definitely.” 

Though eager, every action is just a little bit reserved. In the both of them. She crosses the short distance between herself and Komaeda, hesitating, before she grips the bottom of Komaeda’s shirt and helps to tug it up and over her head, casting it off to the side. It’s hard not to stop entirely, appreciating the sight, but then Komaeda is lifting her hips, trying to urge Hinata into moving faster. Into taking the waistband of the last article of clothing that’s growing more and more frustrating by the second and _why won’t she tug it off_ , but she manages to contain her impatience even by just a fraction. Because Kamukura has taken to rolling onto her stomach, watching the scene appreciatively, and the both of them are afraid to make any movements when it is so obviously Kamukura who likes to call the shots here.

She must sense this, of course. Of course she does. 

“You can kiss her. It’s okay,” she lets them know as Komaeda is in the process of kicking her underwear off _finally_ to the foot of the bed. And that’s all they must need, because suddenly Komaeda is pulling Hinata down, slotting their mouths together. 

And Komaeda is _very_ eager. Eager to please, eager for positive attention- the difference between kissing Komaeda and kissing Kamukura is so stark, it makes Hinata’s head spin as she tries to catch up to the rather abrupt change of pace.   
Overexcited, Komaeda arches up into Hinata’s palms roaming across her stomach, her chest, groans into the kiss. Threads her fingers into Hinata’s hair to hold her in place. It’s all so much at once, maybe… maybe just a _little_ too much, but not in a bad way.  
Kissing Kamukura had ignited the small flame in her gut, but this is making it rise, making an impossible itch under her skin that she needs to scratch, wants to shed all her clothes and coax more of those desperate sounds out of Komaeda but-

But.

“Let her breathe,” Kamukura scolds and Komaeda lets go immediately, sinking back into the blankets. Not without a whine.

“I _know_ you’re capable of controlling yourself better than that,” Kamukura reaches over, wipes away the line of drool pooling from the corner of Komaeda’s mouth. Hinata is still gasping. “I’ve seen it.”

“I’m being so horribly needy,” Komaeda laments, but she’s still grinning, flushed all the way from her cheeks down to where her chest is heaving in oxygen. “You should punish me.”

Hinata’s stomach flips.

“Ah,” Kamukura says in understanding, shifting to sit up. “So that’s what this is about. You’re just interested in putting on a show for Hinata.”

The idea is certainly interesting. Though Kamukura is not a fan of indulging Komaeda’s bad behavior to give her what she wants. It will only encourage her to step out of line. She expresses as much.

“Do you deserve that? Do you deserve to get your way, after all this misbehaving?”

“N-” Komaeda cuts herself off after the sound of the first consonant, biting down on her lip. Hinata has lifted herself up, sitting back on her feet to watch the spectacle. “Nghh-”

“Say it.”

“No,” Komaeda sighs, and Hinata can tell in the way she’s holding herself that she wants to look away from Kamukura but she _can’t_. “I don’t deserve it.”

The image is already in Hinata’s mind though. 

“I-” Hinata starts without thinking much, the words coming out faster than her thoughts. So she stops herself. Swallows thickly. But it was enough to catch their attention, and she can’t back out of it now, two sets of eyes on her expectantly. “If it makes any difference… that’s something I would like to see.”

For a few moments, the only sound is the rushing of blood, her heartbeat in her ears. 

“Very well,” Kamukura agrees. “But this is for Hinata’s benefit, not your own. You are not off the hook for your misbehavior. Understood?”

“Yes, Kamukura.”

Hinata blinks and is suddenly reeling as Kamukura pats the flat of her lap and Komaeda scrambles to comply, stretching herself across it, laying on her stomach.   
With one hand, Kamukura presses her thumb against the pout of Komaeda’s lips, prodding, prying them open and with her other hand, she points toward the end of the bed.

“Hand that to me, please, Hinata.”

And Hinata is scrambling just as eagerly to comply, picking up the fabric of Komaeda’s discarded underwear which she’d kicked off not too long ago, watching wide eyed in some kind of strange fascination as Kamukura presses down on Komaeda’s tongue with her thumb, stuffing the fabric into her open mouth, then withdrawing her hands.   
That is something Hinata did _not_ know would do so much for her. 

“No noises from you,” Kamukura tells Komaeda, rubbing the swell of the back of her thighs. “No squirming. Hinata will count to ten out loud for us- is that alright with you, Hinata?”

Counting.

Hinata can manage counting to ten. 

“Yes,” Hinata nods, maybe just a tad too fast, sitting back to make herself comfortable. The notion feels silly at first, but this is technically a _show_ for _her_. But still it doesn’t hurt to ask- “Uh,” Hinata swallows. “Can I… touch myself- like. While I watch? Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Kamukura says far too easily as Komaeda curls her toes into the sheets in anticipation. “Asking my permission for that isn’t necessary, unless that’s something you want. Then I’d be more than happy to make it mandatory for you to ask.” 

Hinata bites her tongue.   
It had been something she assumed was default but now, of course, when presented with the options, it seems a bit foolish to have assumed anything. This is all very new, uncharted territory, and the thought of inserting herself into a place she’s not sure she fits in-

“No worries, Hinata,” and it is extremely unfair how reassuring her tone is as she pets Komaeda gently to keep her content in the meantime. “You don’t have to make any permanent decisions. Are you okay if we continue?”

“Yup.” She definitely is. “Yup.”

It’s nice, Hinata decides as she finally settles into something acceptable, sliding one hand under the waistband of her shorts in order to relieve some of her tension. It’s nice not to have any expectations, nice not to feel forced to participate but also, feeling more than welcomed to if she so chooses. 

When Kamukura brings her hand down for the first time, Hinata jolts ever so slightly at the resounding smack, breathing “one” just loud enough for all of them to hear. She counts two, and then after three, the loud sound isn’t so startling anymore, and what it is instead is _very hot_ to watch Komaeda try not to writhe, eyes threatening to squeeze shut in her pain but still refusing to close because she is so determined to watch Hinata watch her and that’s. That’s more than enough to send a bolt of heat through Hinata, and she gasps a little bit on the word “four,” rubbing her clit in faster circles.

Smack.

“Five.”

Smack.

“Six.”

Smack, smack-

The room is much too hot now.

“Seven, eight-”

And well- what does Hinata know?- but in her own humble opinion, Komaeda is being remarkably good throughout this whole thing. That may be a wrong judgment, as her only reference is Komaeda’s previous remarkably bad behavior but. She hasn’t uttered a single sound, miraculously, fingers twisted into the sheets and gaze steady despite the tears pricking at her eyes due to the pain Hinata can only guess at, judging from the angry, bright red handprints that are blooming on her ass. If Hinata didn’t know any better, she would say Komaeda is smiling around her makeshift gag.

Smack- “Nine,” Hinata’s hips buck up into her own hand- Smack-

“Ten.” 

Komaeda deflates, letting the tension run out of her body as Kamukura soothes the burning skin with a gentle caress, tugging the now-wet fabric out of Komaeda’s mouth and tossing it off to the side once more.

“Good girl,” and Komaeda preens at the praise.

The display had been more than enough for Hinata to discard the last of her reservations, any attempt at keeping herself composed. Acting _cool_ , acting not to embarrass herself is the furthest thing from her mind right now as she shifts her hips uncomfortably against the constraints of her clothes. They’ve long overstayed their welcome, and the moment she makes a move to take them off, Kamukura is there. Kamukura just knows.

“Would you like some help with that?”

Hinata nods.

Guiding Hinata’s t-shirt off with ease, a quick glance up for permission to which Hinata eagerly nods, and the rest she tugs off in one go. It’s less mortifying to be just as exposed as Komaeda now because it’s so much easier to focus on the way Kamukura has situated herself. Tugs Hinata into her lap again, attaching lips and teeth and tongue to the underside of Hinata’s jaw, working downward.   
Silently, Hinata thanks her for the mercy, soft gasps and sighs falling from her mouth as Kamukura continues down the stretch of her neck, sucking spots into the skin as she pleases, her collarbone, and Hinata can’t contain the whine when she hears a tentative “can I?” from behind and at both of their assent, Komaeda’s hands come to grope at her chest from behind.

It’s too much- too much like before but that’s still not a bad thing. Neither of them are being particularly rough, and that’s something Hinata isn’t even going to spend the brainpower to think about if she would possibly like to feel, but it’s like she’s bursting at the seams, every touch electric, all of her nerves alight.

Komaeda pinches her nipple, tweaking the stiffened skin between her fingers and Hinata lets out a gasp which is, in her opinion, _much_ too loud.

“Hinata is sensitive,” Komaeda comments with what is maybe a hushed laugh and Hinata groans.

“No fair you _both_ get to tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” Kamukura says and that’s when Hinata notices that she’s begun working her way much lower and lower, kissing the swell of her stomach and has reclined almost fully onto her back. “Am I teasing?”

And to see Kamukura below her like that reminds Hinata that she’s really not sure of her place in all this.

They’d invited her, sure. But it’s clear that they’ve already got a dynamic that works for them. Hinata’s not sure where she fits into that, if she can find a place to fit at all, if she’s disrupting something special between them just by inserting herself here. 

“You’re thinking so loud,” Komaeda is the one to call her out on it this time, kissing the junction under Hinata’s ear where her jawline curves and then stilling in her motions. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” she nods, hopes her expression comes across that way too because Kamukura is staring up at her (at what is probably not a flattering angle), not expectantly, not exactly, but those red eyes burn right into her. “Just thinking.” 

“About what?” Kamukura inquires lightly as she hooks her arms underneath and around Hinata’s thighs, finally laying flat on her back as she tugs Hinata, urging her closer. Urging her downward. “If you’d be so kind as to share.” 

“Are you sure?” Hinata’s answering question is one for a different tangent of its own. Voice laden with anticipation because her knees are on either side of Kamukura’s head, cunt inches from her face and she’s _still_ insistent on drawing the specifics out of Hinata. 

“Of course. Unless you’re not?” 

“I am-“ Hinata sputters, cheeks flushed, “Sure, that is.” 

“Then sit,” Kamukura says. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

And well. How can Hinata argue with that? 

Lowering herself, Hinata has to gnaw on the inside of her cheek as she looks down, the sight of Kamukura between her legs _much_ too intimidating to look at, especially when she starts pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs, squeezing encouragingly where she’s holding them in place. 

“Komaeda,” when Kamukura speaks just loud enough, words muffled into the skin, Hinata shivers. “You are to sit back and watch.” She doesn’t need to add on the order of ‘behave’ as well- that goes unspoken between them but her skin is still stinging with enough bite as she does as she’s told, settling back into the pillows. They’re the ones putting on a show now. 

“Your thoughts,” Kamukura prompts again as her teeth sink into the meat of Hinata’s thigh, leaving indents that burn badly enough just for her to want more. “Tell me about them.”

“Now?” Hinata tries not to gape. Tries. Fails. She’s not sure what to do with her hands. Considers bringing them up to grope at her own chest but decides to set them on her knees for the time being.   
She buckles when Kamukura’s tongue slides between her folds though, the answering hum of assent a vibration that makes her breath catch in her throat. It makes her resolve weaken because she’s been holding herself up, steadily not resting all of her weight on Kamukura by just a fraction- more encouraging humming, more of a warm, wet mouth against her makes her reconsider though. Finally she’s sitting fully. Finally Kamukura seems satisfied. 

“Uh-“ Blinking, Hinata finds that her ability to form words is threatening to escape her, as trying to focus on anything other than the tongue moving against her is a little challenging right now. “Thinking about _this_ , I guess.”

“Mhm?” Kamukura hums again, mouth pursed against Hinata’s clit as she does, successfully tearing a small gasp from the woman above her.   
Kamukura’s eyes are half lidded, flickering up to watch Hinata’s expression and distantly Hinata wonders if Kamukura is enjoying this _way more_ than she should be. 

She doesn’t have to keep talking. Probably _shouldn’t_ actually or else it’s only a matter of time before she says something utterly embarrassing, something that she can’t take back. They’re not forcing anything out of her, but it’s growing harder and harder to care by the second, mind fuzzy and addled as Kamukura works, licking and sucking as she tries to find what will elicit the best reactions. So Hinata opens her mouth again. 

“You _wanted_ me here,” she continues, this fact already common knowledge between the three of them but repeating it clarifies it as the source of her thoughts. “Which… makes me feel good but I don’t know where I belo- _ngh_ -“ Hinata moans. “ _There-_ “

Kamukura gets the message, flicks her tongue against the same spot. Hinata moans again. And Kamukura is more than eager to exploit that.   
Talking… is _not_ an option on the table anymore, Hinata realizes quickly. The wind has been knocked from her lungs, anytime she tries to say something, only breathy gasps and half syllables escape her, and she wants to keep looking down- when had she even started looking? the thought of watching had been too intimidating just a few minutes ago- but her eyes slide shut against her own will. 

The feeling is _weird_ and there’s no other way to put it, but still _very nice_ at the same time, so much so that Hinata has to keep herself from squirming, seeking out more friction. 

Kamukura is relentless though. 

She doesn’t ease up, soon starting to pull on Hinata’s thighs, coaxing her forward a few inches and then letting her slide back- after a few times, the intention becomes clear and Hinata only opens her eyes fleetingly to thread her fingers into the hair near Kamukura’s scalp for a better grip as she starts to grind against Kamukura’s face. Black strands clutched in her shaky grasp, hips shifting on their own accord, Hinata tries to repress her whine when Kamukura hums appreciatively at the turn it has taken. 

Smeared from her chin up to the tip of her nose in slick, Kamukura is content to be manhandled, even if just a little. It’s a luxury Komaeda rarely sees, so she’s taking in the display with wide eyes, fidgeting with the pillow to keep her hands from idling too long. 

Soon though, Hinata’s legs are starting to burn the telltale burn of someone who is, sorely, not used to being put in this position. She has to slow, taking in choppy, stuttering breaths, while Kamukura picks up her slack. 

Maybe she’s just too easy.

Maybe it’s because she’s just as eager as Komaeda, maybe even more so. Maybe it’s because Kamukura always seems to know how to do the best in whatever she sets her mind to, which is more than a little infuriating, and apparently this is no exception. Maybe it’s a combination of all three and then some. But when Kamukura goes back to giving her clit attention, circling it with her tongue, Hinata’s eyes open upon her own mortification at the realization that she is suddenly not far from her end. 

“ _I’m close_ ,” she warns and she’s not sure if it’s supposed to be just telling or if some part of her is seeking permission. 

Not that Kamukura would withhold it from her, of course. 

Increases her effort twofold, gripping even tighter to keep Hinata from writhing out of place. The heat in her gut that had started as a subtle itch, a small spark, now burning bright and growing warmer by the second, the flush on Hinata’s face has extended all the way up to the tips of her ears.   
It must be some kind of performance anxiety- somewhere in the back of her mind Hinata wonders how _anyone_ could _ever_ come on _command_. Komaeda can probably do that. Hinata would like to see it one day. Be the one giving the command- but she’s left teetering on the edge for another agonizing minute or two, chasing desperately with stifled whimpers, sounds of effort- “ _oh, oh-_ ” until it crashes into her.

Hinata gives her proudest effort not to smother Kamukura entirely as she comes, head locked between her squeezing thighs as a whine, long and low, escapes from the back of her throat. Everything is warm, pleasant, waves rolling through her until she shudders, finally untensing, her grip on Kamukura’s hair going slack. 

She heaves in a few heavy lungfuls of air, then lifts herself up on trembling legs to at least let Kamukura _breathe_. 

“Sorry,” she offers in the midst of trying to catch her own breath. 

“Don’t be,” Kamukura tells her. Lets her hands fall away from Hinata’s thighs, not before another encouraging squeeze, and in the slightly dimmed light Hinata can see just how much of a mess she’s made of Kamukura’s face, which makes the next words all the more flustering. “I quite enjoyed that.”

“I did too,” Komaeda decides she’s going to add as Hinata lifts herself up and off, rolling onto her back as she recovers.

The breeze of the gently spinning fan above them is more obvious now that she’s sufficiently overheated, cooling sweat plastering a few bits of hair to her forehead, waiting for the twitching and throbbing to subside. 

“Glad we’re all in agreement, then.”

It’s then that Kamukura grants Komaeda wordless permission to move, and she does so happily, crawling across the covers, leaning into the touch as Kamukura’s hand slides against her cheek, guiding her into a kiss.  
The taste is decidedly that of _Hinata_ , who flushes even more at the sight, scrubbing her face with her hands as though that would do anything to wipe the image from the back of her eyelids, the soft, wet sound of their kissing and the white noise of the fan filling the air between them. 

Komaeda does her best to reel in her eagerness. She can at least act on the pretense of behaving because they’ve got a guest, and normally she prides herself on being compliant, on being _good_. Their roles are a little relaxed today though, and the feeling of being given a couple inches of slack on her chain, metaphorically speaking of course, is both invigorating and unsettling- she needs that control to feel reigned in, to feel safe, and the steady buzzing at the back of her mind hasn’t gone away since she’d heard the knock on the doorframe- the urge to impress, the urge to please, the urge to get everything out of this that she can because what if Hinata decides that this sort of thing just… isn’t for her?  
That would be okay, Komaeda thinks, if that was what Hinata decided. Because at the end of it all, she knows how to respect a choice. And Kamukura would still be there to guide her, tell her what to do and when to do it, which is what she needs. But having Hinata around is just as nice, too. 

Kamukura guides Komaeda’s hands to the hem of her shirt, and she takes the gesture for what it is, a wordless order, helps lift it up and off her. Even if she’s burning to ask questions, burning to touch, burning to _be_ touched, she knows to wait because she trusts Kamukura, trusts Kamukura to sense her restlessness, and that trust is rewarded as such. 

“Patience,” reassures by petting her hand through Komaeda’s hair. “I will take care of you soon.”

And that’s all that she needs, really. 

So she’s content to sit and listen when Kamukura inclines her attention back to Hinata, then, reaching out with her free hand to brush away the strands of hair still clinging to Hinata’s forehead.

“Feeling okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You belong here, you know. You belong here because we asked you here.”

“What-?” Hinata looks over, and then she remembers. She’d entirely forgotten the confession Kamukura had managed to wring from her prior. “Oh. Oh yeah, I know.”

“Do you?” Kamukura’s thumb brushes against her cheekbone. “You’re not obligated to force yourself into any kind of box you’re not comfortable with. I know you feel that you need to have all the answers, that you need to know everything. But you don’t. Okay?”

And because Hinata knows it’s coming from a place of concern, that Kamukura would be the only one to call anyone out on something like this in the middle of everything and get away with it, because she knows that she’s right, because, Hinata thinks, it would be silly to get defensive now with the person whose face she was just sitting on, she nods.

“Okay.”

That seems to satisfy her, because Kamukura nods, then pulls herself away, sliding off the bed and padding across the room to- do what, Hinata’s not really sure, but Komaeda is there to keep her company. Stretches across to kiss her and Hinata flusters, tasting herself on Komaeda’s lips and well.   
Maybe it’s not as gross as it should be.

When Kamukura returns to sit on the bed, Hinata hears the distinctive sound of metal clattering which she realizes is a pair of handcuffs, only after she’s beckoned Komaeda to sit in her lap, her back pressed against Kamukura’s chest, and secured her hands behind her. 

Hinata props herself up on an elbow in intrigue. 

“Are you at all interested in helping out?” Kamukura shouldn’t be allowed to ask so casually as she taps Komaeda on the knee, a wordless order to spread her legs which she does so obediently and Hinata’s suddenly forgotten all of her manners because she can’t stop staring.

Nodding, Hinata closes the gap between them, but hesitates on anything further.

It’s the right thing to do, apparently, because Kamukura reaches up from behind, resting two of her fingers on the pout of Komaeda’s lips. Komaeda, who opens her mouth easily to let them in. And she urges Hinata to join in.  
Two fingers of her own slip into Komaeda’s open mouth, pressing against her palate, as Komaeda does her best to accommodate the four digits total, running her tongue across them, coating them in saliva.

“You’re being messy,” Kamukura tells her when a line of spittle falls from her mouth and Komaeda whines in what Hinata can only assume is an apology. 

Hinata is sated, sure, but when Kamukura withdraws her fingers and Hinata follows suit, she can’t help but feel the heat flare up again in her face, rocketing down her spine when she takes in Komaeda’s blissed out expression, spit smeared onto her cupid’s bow. 

Not that she’s not already wet- because she _is_ \- but the slick of spit makes things a little easier when Kamukura reaches down, slides her fingers along Komaeda’s folds for a few teasing moments before settling into a steady rhythm, rubbing at her clit. And maybe it’s a moment of clarity for Hinata, silent ascent, because she understands what she’s meant to do. Watches hypnotized, the seconds feel so much longer, before she’s spurred into motion, sliding her- first one and then when she’s assured that she can use both because “ _Komaeda is greedy_ ,” Kamukura tells her, two- slick fingers _inside_ of her and Komaeda _keens_ , and the sound feels like a punch in the gut. 

It becomes apparent within the first couple movements, pulling out and then pressing back in, curling, trying to match the pace that Kamukura has set- if Hinata had been easy, then Komaeda is-

 _“Ah, ah-”_

Komaeda is-

_“Hng, please-”_

Her hands flex where they’re constrained behind her back, nails digging into the skin of Kamukura’s stomach because it’s the only thing in her reach, and when her legs shake, knees threatening to snap shut, Kamukura tells her-

“Keep them open.”

She can be good. She can and she _will_ be, shifting helplessly against the ministrations, a little sigh of gratitude as Hinata leans forward and starts kissing at the column of her neck.   
She’s seen the bruises Kamukura likes to leave there- Komaeda who is too proud to ever cover them up, wears them like a token- and she is pleasantly proven right in her suspicion that it is one of Komaeda’s weak points.  
Hinata pushes, curling her fingers again and her wrist is starting to cramp- _so soon?_ \- but it is _so_ worth it to hear the way a rush of air escapes Komaeda’s mouth in a breathy gasp, broken syllables of Hinata’s name in a jagged rush to beg for more.

‘Oh’s that grow louder, bolder in their intensity which each passing second, it’s obvious to feel that Komaeda is tensing up, drawn tight like a bowstring, arching as she tries to hold herself still but her breaths are coming in shorter and Kamukura knows more than how to read her by now.

With her free hand, she swats Hinata’s away, left only to rub in unrelenting circles, coaxing Komaeda to the edge and just as she’s about to tip over-

Kamukura stops.

Komaeda lets out a _loud_ broken whine, throwing her head back on Kamukura’s shoulder as Kamukura withdraws her hand, leaves her shaking, leaves her hips rising up desperately in the air, searching for a relief that’s not there.

“You know what you have to do,” Kamukura reminds her, and somehow her voice never fails to be even, never fails to feel threatening and elicit a shiver in even Hinata.

“Please,” she begs.

“Please, what?”

“Please, can I come?”

Hinata’s eyes are wide. 

“I told you that you weren’t forgiven for your misbehavior earlier,” and Komaeda swallows down the latter end of a pathetic cry when Kamukura teases, ghosting just close to where she needs to be touched the most but not quite. “Do you think that I should let you?”

“That’s not-” Komaeda chokes when her voice falls out from under her- and maybe it’s because of the way Hinata is watching her so intently, with awe- and she tries again. “That’s not for me to decide.”

That must be the right answer.

Hinata’s not sure if it’s something unspoken between them at first, but then Kamukura turns her head to the side and mumbles something against Komaeda’s temple that Hinata thinks sounds like the word “ _good_ ,” and suddenly her hands are back on Komaeda, building her up and up and up all over again.  
“Go ahead.”

Komaeda is easy.

Komaeda falls.

She lets out the most strangled, most _intriguing_ sound that Hinata thinks she’s ever heard, one so distracting that momentarily Hinata forgets that her hand has been hovering midair because she’s not sure what to do with it- _to wipe it on the sheets, or?_ \- watching unwaveringly, unable to look away as Komaeda orgasms, Kamukura guiding her through it down down down down until finally Komaeda slumps against her, eyes sliding shut, chest heaving.

“Thank you.”

Like putty in her hands, Kamukura helps Komaeda to lay down, maneuvers her, freeing her hands from the restraints. A sticky mess of sweat and _other things_ , Hinata leans over her, brightens at the smile Komaeda gives her through bleary eyes, but she can’t hold the expression for long. And that’s fine.

This is fine. Actually. 

After all is said and done, really, Hinata’s still not sure there’s a space for her here but maybe that doesn’t matter because if they’re willing to _make_ a space for her to fit in, then that’s just as good. Better, even. 

She turns to Kamukura, who has moved to sit comfortably, swept the hair out from under her not to pin herself down with her own weight, and Hinata’s been stealing sly glances at her for long enough to notice that she’s maybe smiling amusedly. Barely there but still. There.

“What about you?” Hinata tries to adopt her casual tone as she sidles up, even if it comes fumbling off her tongue, fingertips resting on Kamukura’s lower stomach and Kamukura is nothing but receptive when she says.

“If you’d like.”

Yeah. Hinata decides that she would _very much_ like. 

**Author's Note:**

> there u have it folks... anyways i was inspired to write some kamukomahina lesbians, and wanted to explore what the situation might be like if someone new entered a space where a prominent d/s dynamic was already established. hope u enjoyed!


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